


loss and gain

by halcyonskies



Series: OTP Challenge [15]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Daemon Touching, Daemons, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fallen Angel Castiel, Human Castiel, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 03:00:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7600846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halcyonskies/pseuds/halcyonskies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's something new, but Castiel isn't afraid to face whatever's ahead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	loss and gain

**Author's Note:**

> 15th Challenge - Parallel Universe
> 
> daemons are probably one of my favorite fantasy inventions ever, just saying. and in case anyone is wondering what exactly everyone's daemons are: 
> 
> citrina - black german shepard
> 
> siele - red-shouldered hawk
> 
> (and even though he's only mentioned) bran - clouded leopard

Castiel woke an indeterminate amount of time later, cheek pressed to the grass, the image of Metatron’s gleeful face burned into the insides of his eyelids.

He was soaked through to his skin, shivering from the damp. When he tried to push himself up, his arms trembled violently, like they were holding up a thousand extra pounds. He gave up and let himself collapse back onto the ground, curling around the cramping hollow of his stomach. 

His senses were muddled, muted. Not angelic in the slightest. But he could still tell that something was different.

“Castiel?”

He gasped, turning his head toward the voice that had spoken so timidly. There laid a daemon, staring back at him with huge golden-brown eyes. She looked a pitiful thing, feathers clumped together with rainwater, wings spread listlessly over the ground.

“Who do you belong to?” he whispered, though he already knew.

“I’m yours,” she answered. “You’re human now, Castiel.”

Something like  _ peace _ settled underneath his ribcage. For the first time since he’d become acquainted with humanity – since he’d walked on the Earth and observed all that it had to offer, the things so disparate from Heaven and everything Castiel was used to – he felt like he understood something that had long escaped all comprehension. He felt  _ complete. _

“What do I call you?”

She thought about it for a few quiet moments. In that time, she flicked the water off of her wings and stood up, taking awkward steps upon the grass. When it appeared as if she’d found her bearings, she looked back at him.

“Siele. That’s my name.”

That fit too, somehow. Castiel accepted it easily enough, following her example and finally levering himself up off the ground. It was too dark to make out anything other than a lot of trees and overgrowth, but he could see light in the distance. Since he had no idea where it was he’d Fallen, he would have to seek out civilization the old fashioned way. 

“We should find Dean, Castiel,” Siele suggested, alighting on his shoulder. Her weight was nothing to him, her talons hardly making an indent in his coat. It felt like she had always been there, like this was a position she’d claimed many times over the years. 

“That sounds like a good idea.” Hesitantly, Castiel lifted a hand to her ruffled chest, stroking his fingers over the plumage there. She nudged trustingly back against his hand, then pointedly nipped at his fingers.

“Let’s go, then.”

//

Castiel felt as if his legs were going to give out by the time he reached the source of the light he’d seen. It was a gas station, the only building he could see for miles on either end of the stretch of road before him. Siele shifted against the side of his head, clicking her beak restlessly as he trudged up to the door with an “open” sign flickering in the glass.

He stood just inside the entrance for a moment, allowing the artificially cooled air to chase away the sweat that had gathered on his skin as he walked. A quick glance around revealed the abundance of what he recognized as snack food, racks upon racks of brightly colored packages that drew the eyes. The pointed rumble of his stomach was an inescapable reminder of his newfound humanity.  

“Everything alright over there?”

The man – more of a teenager, really – behind the front counter was eyeing him a little strangely; the frog daemon perched on the register betrayed the boy’s uneasiness, its throat pulsating wildly as Castiel stumbled over to the counter.

“No, I’m . . . Do you have a phone?”

The boy frowned, his eyes flicking briefly over Castiel’s daemon. “Uh, sure. There’s one in the back.”

Castiel mumbled his thanks as he made his way over to the area the cashier had indicated, leaning heavily against the wall beside the phone. What he really wanted was to sit down, but that could wait until after he’d made his call.

Siele murmured the numbers in his ear as he dialed them, but he didn’t need the reminder. He knew Dean’s number by heart. 

_ “Hello?” _

He felt lightheaded from the sheer relief of hearing Dean’s voice. “Hello, Dean. It’s–”

_ “Cas?”   _ There came the sound of movement over the line, the faint noise of a door clicking shut.  _ “Cas, where the hell  _ –  _ pipe down, let me ask him! Cas, where are you?” _

“I’m not sure. I woke up in the middle of the woods.”

_ “Woods? Which woods?" _

“I don’t  _ know,  _ Dean. I’m in a gas station now. Here, let me ask–”

He carefully set the phone down inside its terminal, backtracking to the front counter. He returned to it after he’d received the information he needed from the nonplussed cashier.

“Dean, the boy at the counter says we’re currently in Moblin, Nebraska, right off of Highway 136.”

There was silence over the line for a minute, presumably while Dean looked up Castiel’s exact location. Then a sigh hissed through the earpiece.  _ “Good news is you’re way closer than I thought you’d be. Bad news is it’s still gonna take me about an hour to get to you. You good to wait?” _

“Of course, Dean. I’ll wait as long as you need me to.”

_ “Well, it won’t be long. Sam’s down for the count right now, so he won’t need me for a while. Just don’t get in any trouble between now and when I pick you up, okay?” _

“I’ll try.”

There was another period of silence, though Castiel was unsure of what this one was for. Then Dean spoke again, soft and sincere.

_ “Hey, Cas . . . I love you, alright? I’m sorry we fucked up again.” _

Castiel closed his eyes, drawing comfort from the warmth of his daemon on his shoulder. “It’s not your fault, Dean. And I love you too.”

_ “Sure. See you soon, sweetheart.” _

Castiel placed the phone back into its receiver after he’d said his own goodbyes. He walked back out to the front of the station, past the staring cashier and the racks of food. When he was outside again, he sat down on the least damp patch of concrete he could find, leaning against the side of the building.  

Siele was bored of the waiting long before Castiel. He watched her for a while as she strutted about on awkward talons, picking at hovering insects and floating debris with her beak. Before too long the light spilling out of the station disappeared, and a moment later the teenager emerged. After he’d locked up, he approached Castiel cautiously, holding something out towards him. 

“You looked like you could use something to eat,” he explained when Castiel looked up at him in confusion. 

“I don’t have anything to pay you back.”

“Dude, it’s just Cheetos. Don’t worry about it.”

After the boy had gotten into the lone car in the parking lot and left, Siele stepped closer, staring curiously at the bag. “Are those any good?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never eaten them before.” Castiel tore the bag open and selected one of the lumpy orange objects inside. They were wonderfully crunchy and incredibly salty; he’d gotten half the bag swallowed down before he forced himself to stop, heeding the unhappy grumbling of his belly. From his own understanding and from hazy half-remembered lectures from Sam, Castiel knew that this type of food wasn’t meant to be consumed in large amounts.

The low, animal growl of an engine heralded Dean’s arrival shortly thereafter. Castiel saw Citrina before he saw Dean; the daemon was leaning her head out the Impala’s window, tongue lolling. It made him smile to see her looking well.

“Cas! Cas, hey.” Dean pulled up alongside the building, hopping out of the car once the engine had cut out. Citrina came around the vehicle’s front bumper a moment later, brushing past Dean in her eagerness to get to Castiel. However, she stopped cold when she saw the daemon observing her from Castiel’s lap.

Dean’s eyes were wide with his own shock. “Is that . . . ?”

“Siele, Dean. That’s her name.” 

Siele abandoned his lap and waddled boldly up to Citrina, patiently tolerating the other daemon’s cautious poking and sniffing. Castiel grinned outright when Citrina yipped happily, her tail waving excitedly back and forth. For her part, Siele seemed just as enchanted by Citrina, nipping playfully at her paws and nuzzling up under her chest. 

“Cas . . .” Dean seemed lost for words, awed and confused in equal measure. “That’s really your daemon.”

“Yes.”

“How?”

Citrina raised her head, looking back at Dean over her shoulder. “Well, isn’t it obvious? He’s human.”

Dean frowned. He came closer and then sat down beside Castiel, pressing their sides together. 

“You really Fell?”

“I am Fallen, though it was Metatron who cast me out. He . . . stole my grace. When I came to, I was out there, and Siele was with me.”

After a few minutes of stilted silence, Dean nudged him. When he spoke, he voice was tight with strained humor. “So, what’s it like, having your very own soul?”

Castiel contemplated it for a moment as he watched their daemons interact. Almost hesitantly, he reached out and took Dean’s hand, fingers and palms sliding easily together as they’d done dozens of times before. When Dean squeezed instead of pulling away, Castiel sighed.

“It’s heavier than I expected.”

Dean gave him a strange look. “Yeah?”

“I like it, though. I like her.” Castiel held his free hand out to Siele, who returned to him easily enough. He cradled her carefully against his chest, looking down into her large eyes. “Before, I envied humanity their daemons, but I didn’t understand the connection. Not really.” 

“So . . .” Dean spoke softly, cautiously. “You’re not sorry you aren’t an angel anymore?”

“I’m sure I’ll miss my wings before long. But if you’re asking whether I’d trade her for my grace back, then the answer is  _ no.” _

Citrina flopped over onto the concrete in front of Castiel’s legs, her head coming down to rest on his shins. Though the fabric of his pants separated her from his bare skin, Castiel still felt that familiar warm tingle trickle up his spine at the contact. He looked down at Dean’s daemon, and then at his own, thoughtful. 

“Would you like to hold her, Dean?”

Dean twitched, an expression almost like guilt flickering across his face. “Are you sure? She’s brand new, Cas.”

Castiel nodded, urging Siele across their knees into Dean’s lap. He could see that Dean’s fingers were shaking a little as his hands hovered over Siele’s feathers. He looked back at Castiel nervously, as if to affirm that this was something Castiel approved of. 

“I won’t peck you. Promise,” Siele quipped, and Dean started a little. Then he smiled.

“Better not, feather-butt.”

It was like being immersed in a warm bath, or curling underneath a thick quilt, or drinking something rich and hot. Castiel revelled in the newness of it, something he’d only ever imagined feeling when he was with Dean before. He’d always known it was a very intimate thing, to touch another’s daemon, and he’d always felt honored by Dean’s trust in him. 

But this was different. Before, Castiel had had to compensate for a lack of daemon with a purely physical affection; being unable to show Dean even a hint of his trueform, he’d had to content himself with proving his care through touch and promises alone. It had never been  _ less,  _ necessarily, because Castiel loved Dean as much as any angel could. It was just that now he could actually  _ share  _ himself with Dean, could show him everything he felt with no room for misinterpretation. 

“Hey. You okay, Cas?”

It was only as he was opening his eyes that Castiel realized he’d closed them at all. He looked down at Citrina first, at where his fingers had buried themselves in the scruff of her neck. “Yes, I’m fine.”

“We should probably get back to the bunker, then. I don’t know how long Sam’s gonna be out, but Bran was up for a while before I left.”

“Of course.”

They were long in the car, cruising down the highway, by the time either one of them spoke again. Dean sat with one hand on the wheel and the other resting comfortably on Citrina, who was lying squished between him and Castiel. Siele sat perched on the backrest of the bench seat, her beak tucked back into her wing.

“So . . .” Dean began, glancing quickly between Castiel and the road. 

“So?” Castiel turned to face him, soothing Citrina’s irritated grumbling away with a gentle hand. 

“I’m just really glad you called me, Cas.” Dean’s fingers tightened on the wheel. “When I saw the angels Falling, I didn’t know what the hell to think. I would’ve gone looking for you, but Sam . . .”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Dean. I understand. I always knew you would help me as soon as you could.”

“Well, I’m betting you’ll feel a lot better once we get home.”

“Home?” Castiel allowed a teasing lilt to enter his voice.

“Yeah, ‘course. I mean, if you want it to be – I just assumed –”

“I like the sound of that, actually. Home.”

Dean didn’t have a hope of hiding the smile on his face.  
  
  



End file.
